The Drinks Taste Better Free
by 00000001
Summary: These glamorous girls have wishes, just like normal people. But they're still way above average. One night can change that. —-; AU, many hints to minor Het pairings
1. Introduction

**authors note; **This came out of nowhere, even though I haven't had time to write… anything, actually. If you're alerted to my other story "Love Letters," it'll be updated relatively soon. I'm getting it done as fast as I can with the time I have.

This was inspired by onetwosevennine's brilliant mini-fic thing called "hot and dangerous"

**Warning:** AU! Contains hints to pretty much any Het pairing possible, which means the girls are the center of attention. Also warning for some unusual human names used, language, and hints to sexual situations. (Just hints, but still.)

**::_ here's how it goes… _::**

It's a gift, really. Maybe an unwanted gift, but who knows? It's also a recipe for trouble.

What are the chances that eight super stunning girls, who were obviously "superior" to all others, would be the best of friends living in the same city? Well, it doesn't matter, because such a phenomenal occurrence exists.

There is Elizaveta Héderváry, Bel Pascarella, Natalia Arlovskaya, Irina Chernenko (or she is affectionately called by her adopted name Yekaterina "Katyusha" Braginskaya), Cassandre Epine, Monica Nguyen, Xiao Mei (she makes everyone call her "Taryn"), and Nikki Forte.

These girls ran the city for pretty much their entire existence, even going back to preschool days. They are enchanting and devilish in every way imaginable.

**:: ::**

_Elizaveta Héderváry_

: **The Feisty Mother Hen** :

Elizaveta, or sometimes others pronounced it as Elizabeta, is the adult and the defender of the other girls as well as her little cousin, Erika Vogel.

She is tall and had long, luscious brown hair that curled naturally at the tips. On her pretty little head, she often wore a flower that amped up her cuteness scale. Her eyes are a light green and always seemed to twinkle in admiration.

She is stylish and walks with pride, and if you're a girl, you easily find yourself a bit jealous. If you're a man, then you're probably already entranced the moment you lay eyes on her. It doesn't help that, other than English, she speaks German and Italian fluently.

Many men have tried gaining her attention, but she always seems to look the other way.

_Bel Pascarella_

: **The Innocent Troublemaker** :

Bel never meant to cause trouble. She never did anything relatively bad. Not as bad as Nikki Forte did, anyway. Still, trouble always followed her. It wasn't with adults, or with the law, but with other girls and men.

Bel is a natural flirt, not even knowing it. She laughs and it sounds like wedding bells chiming so loudly in your ear, making you involuntarily swoon. By accident, she could steal your boyfriend, or even girlfriend, without meaning to. A flutter of her eyelash and curve of her lip would make your head spin. Her brothers always tried to keep her hidden away from the world, trying to keep her naive advances on others to a minimum, but it just didn't happen. She was always too liberated, too lovely to be concealed, and much too playful.

Her delicate golden curls, resting upon her petite shoulders, smelled of honey and if you were fortunate, you could catch a whiff of her lovely perfume, even if she only sprayed on the tiniest bit. Just like Elizaveta, her deep green eyes were always shining and looked so inviting, that you wanted to become lost within them.

It's a shame that she's a little oblivious to everyone who tries to woo her.

_Natalia Arlovskaya_

: **The One Who Isn't Interested** :

Natalia, by pure choice, never paid her fans any attention. If you had the chance, or the luck, she might glance your way with her icy cold, yet stunning gaze, then look back to her fingernails and inspect them for the millionth time that day. Or she may even roll those dark eyes and give her long, platinum silver hair the slightest twirl and then stalk off to the corner of the room. Rumor has it that once; someone was able to talk to her. The best response from her was a low grunt and a soft Russian word rolling from her pale lips. It was only for a moment, but it sent shock waves through everyone at school.

Those that live near her and her large mansion, that had probably a hundred servants for her and her sister _alone_, say that she spends some of her time wandering the grounds, as if looking for something. Others speculate that she may spend time taking care of her older, fragile sister, Katyusha Braginskaya.

The latest circulating fact about the girl is that she's never looked happy, and most people are too terrified to try and make her smile.

_"Katyusha" Braginskaya_

: **The Mocked Sweetheart** :

Sister to Natalia, Katyusha is wealthy and very well liked. Unfortunately, she is also made fun of by others, even though it is good-natured. She is the older sister to Natalia and she wound up growing up awkwardly, gaining magnificent curves and a rather large bust. She has blonde hair that's short but cute, framing her baby-face and large blue eyes, sometimes tinted red or pink from crying. She's quite strong and determined on the inside, but she has very low self-esteem and is seen as a crybaby to most. Even so, she's very caring and sweet, making you feel weak in the knees if she talks to you with her soothing voice or your heart winds up swelling if she gently tugs your shirt or holds your hand.

Even though she has a distorted self-image, she enjoys giving everyone else advice and comfort if they're feeling low, making her a very unique person. Even the biggest perverts on the planet couldn't find themselves to think dirty about the poor girl, especially if she breaks out into that trademark smile that, if you caused it, makes you feel like you won the entire world.

The only downside to the woman is that she's the kind of girl who'd rather be friends, and she's never been asked out, making her awkward around those who are open about their feelings.

_Cassandre Epine_

: **The Classy Bitch **:

An eloquent girl from Europe, Cassandre won the hearts of the city-folk the moment she moved in. She came along, dark blonde hair all tied up in a messy yet beautiful side braid, and her blue eyes fierce. Everyone was captivated by this European wonder, and soon learned that behind her elegance, she was quite intimidating and could snap at you like a snake, while still looking fabulous. At the time, the only one able to put up with her was her unusual niece, Ellie Jacobs, who seemed Australian. Over time, the girl gained many friends and admirers, especially since she was also quite a flirtatious woman.

Her mother and father owned several casinos, and naturally taught Cassandre everything they knew about gambling and dealing with people of all types, as well as how to do business properly. Cassandre used this to her advantage, giving herself and her friends several get-the-fuck-out-of-jail-free cards if the happened to stumble into issues of any sort. Her smarts stacked with her looks and charisma (and that lovely French accent) often lured men like a siren's call.

As long as Cassandre remains with her friends and keeps her appeal in tact, the poor souls who find that they're caught in her web won't be getting out anytime soon, because she'll make sure of it.

_Monica Nguyen_

: **The Shy and Headstrong Splendor** :

Monica was just a tad different from her other friends. Her family was from Vietnam, but she was born and raised in this country. She has small brown/black eyes and long black hair that she likes to tie in a side ponytail. She dresses conservatively and is quite soft-spoken. She's also very calm, and doesn't really respond with feelings. Somehow, this still appeals to you and everyone else. She looks like she's daydreaming, but she also looks completely attentive and focused.

Sometimes she changes completely when in the presence of her best friend, Taryn. When they're paired together, Monica can seem nervous or embarrassed, but outgoing.

She's tall and slim, able to pull off any outfit if she really wanted, but she claims that she doesn't like "showing off like that."

She's been asked out more than enough times, but for some odd reason, she hasn't answered back.

"_Taryn" (Xiao Mei)_

: **The Cheery Smart-Aleck** :

Taryn is the lovely Asian girl, whose family is from Taiwan, who isn't afraid to speak her mind—at all. She has dazzling brown eyes and long brown hair with a trademark curl on the side of her head. She loves being herself and being the wise guy, or girl, of the group. She's very strong-willed and fashionable and she tries to get others out of their shell. She has a number of followers, but she's more interested in people who don't stalk her every moment of the day. If she doesn't like you, it's quite evident and she'll probably tell you off or toss a snide remark your way before turning her back and doing something "more fun."

When she moved to the city and made her friends, she immediately called for a sudden name change, and she promptly chose a random name from the book, which happened to be Taryn. The name stuck ever since, and anyone who has tried to call her Xiao Mei, besides her buddies, were severely scolded. She is the only one known to get Monica out of her serene little bubble, and she utilizes that fact every chance she gets. Despite all of her attitude, she's got a bubbly outward appearance and likes to be around people who are friendly.

Even so, she wishes that there was someone who accepted her for everything that she is, but wasn't a rapid fan or someone trying to use her.

_Nikki Forte_

: **The Badass Tomboy With Style **:

Nikki Forte is the girl with more wealth and fashion than you can imagine, as well as attitude and street smarts. She's the expert in all things Gucci or Dolce & Gabbana. Fuck whatever "expensive stores" you know. Fuck them all. She's got more Louis Vuitton clutches and Marbella sandals than you have teeth, and probably more Versace beach towels than the number of bath towels you own. Or ever _will_ own. She's the goddamn queen of fashion and ferocity. Please, Tyra Banks, scoot aside and let Nikki teach you some modeling techniques.

At the very same time, Nikki is the girl who seems manlier than any of the guys. She's the sexy, exotic beast from an island named Seychelles. She's got the movie-star tan, naturally, and the glowing brown eyes and silky raven hair. She's the goddess everyone wants to be, and she's probably the girl who'd rather play sports than go shopping. Her expertise in fashion didn't come by choice, but it's hard to ignore these things when your parents teach you everything there is to know about clothing and design. Nikki is feisty and impossible to hold on to. She refuses to date and is turned off by any advances. Besides, with her fluent French and Creole, you'll probably be too awestruck and tongue-tied to bother trying.

Even with her unrealistically high standards of living, she doesn't want to be the bitchy queen of everything-you're-not. In fact, she often wishes she could be normal and not as liked as she is, so she can just relax and not keep such a stressing image up.

**:: ::**

Each of these god-like girls has attributes every average person wants, but they've each got a secret that keeps from being greater than everyone else.

And just one fateful night can reveal those undisclosed desires.

**::_ … so come and get it _::**

**authors notes;** This is the first part. It was going to be a one-shot, but I ran out of time. I'll update this with the next part ASAP, then get back to writing my other story.

Reasons for some names:

-Monica Nguyen (Vietnam) – Based off my friend's name. She calls herself Monica, but her last name actually is Nguyen, and it's a common surname in Vietnam.

-Irina Cherneko (Ukraine) – On the wiki it says Himaruya considered that being Ukraine's name, but then I made it so her friends and such changed it to Yekaterina "Katyusha" Braginskaya, then just called her Katyusha.

-Bel Pascarella (Belgium) – Bel, for obvious reasons, and Pascarella is a friend's last name. She's half-Belgian. Not sure if Pascarella is even a Belgian or Dutch surname, but it's pretty.

-Cassandre Epine (Monaco) – Cassandre means "she who entangles men" and Epine was a possible surname for France, who sees Monaco as his little sister.

-Nikki Forte (Seychelles) – Nikki sounds tomboy-ish and strong to me and Forte means strong in French. Or something like that.

I'm sorry if I completely messed up something, or you don't like my changes to the girls' personalities. It's an AU fic, so obviously they're a bit different. Thanks for reading and I'll have the next part up soon!


	2. The Club

**authors note; **Still steadily working on Love Letters, if I weren't being interrupted by real life the way, Erika is Liech and Ellie is Wy.** Enter men! **Don't worry, they kept their names. However, I only added a few. I guess if you want me to add more, I can make another chapter…

**Warning:** AU! Contains hints to pretty much any and all Het pairings, including those cracky ones. Also warning for some unusual human names used, language, and hints to sexual situations.

_7:13 P.M._

"But Cassandre! Why can't you take me with you?"

"Because, Ellie, you're too young," Cassandre mumbles through the hair clip dangling from her lips, sparkling a light shade of pink in the dim vanity lighting from the lip-gloss previously applied. Ellie gives her aunt that look of 'what-on-earth-are-you-doing-to-your-face' and just stands there, awestruck as the older woman smirks and touches up her mascara and eyeliner. The 10 year old isn't sure on how to react, other than wanting to ask if it hurt or not. Cassy would always laugh and say no, then ruffle Ellie's hair and murmur something along the lines of, "Just remember: if you ever start wearing makeup, ask me. I know how to put on just enough to make it work, unlike those nasty sluts always caking it on their face."

The cell phone lying precariously on the desk beneath her shook and burst into the chorus of "E.T." and Ellie snaps out of her gaze, piping up in excitement. "Ooh! I know this one! Um—is it Nikki?"

Cassy picks up the cell and looked at her niece through the mirror before her, chuckling, "That's terrifying that you know that… Nikki?"

"_Yeah! We're on our way!"_

"Well too bad because I'm not ready yet."

"_Boo! You whore."_

"Love you too, bitch," she replies jokingly before hanging up. She freezes and whirls around in her stool to face the little girl still standing there awkwardly, watching.

"Wh-what?" Ellie asks nervously as she flinches away from Cassy's hard stare.

"… Never talk the way I do, alright? I want you to grow up and be a tasteful lady…" she warns, pouting.

"O-Okay… but you are classy! You said you were!" Ellie retorts, hugging the Persian cat she just plucked from off the ground.

"Y-yeah, but that's not what I meant. I meant to say I am… something else."

"What, then?"

It was an innocent enough question, but Cassy decides to not answer.

_7:36 P.M._

"Dammit Cassy! Makin' us late again. Let's go Chauffeur dude!" Nikki shouts to the man waiting patiently for the ladies to enter the backseat safely.

"What? I had to give Erika and Ellie some money for the ice cream… whiny ass."

"Do you two always act so prudish? Lighten up! I'm glad we don't have classes together!" Taryn snorts, blowing lightly on her manicure she acquired that afternoon. Elizaveta purses her lips as the two previously arguing go silent, then she sees sitting across from her, Monica, Natalia, and Katyusha. She suddenly turns to the two Russian sisters and smiles warmly.

"Thanks for letting us use your limo again, guys!"

Kat grins bashfully and Natalia just shrugs, shifting the wine glass between her long, pale fingers. Of course, it wasn't full of wine or anything of the sort, but juice. Yes, juice.

Even if they were the baddest or hottest girls in the entire _world_, they made the sacred vow to not drink. That was a special childhood promise still kept, among some others.

"No problem, I guess," Natalia finally says softly, sipping the fluid daintily. It wasn't meant to be rude or said out of contempt, for Natalia was actually quite nice and gentle around her closest friends, a detail that nobody else knew. She only put on her ugly front for everyone else, the rest of the world, out of disdain and slight fear of the unknown.

"Yes, our father says he also wishes us a good time!" Katyusha adds sweetly, clasping her hands together on her lap. Nikki nods, grimacing as she adjusted the straps on her heels; her legs spread wide open in an immodest manner.

"Yo Cassy, Taryn, where are you taking us and why'd we need to get dressed up? This dress is freaking itchy and I hate strapless bras."

Cassy grins evilly, feeling rather comfortable in her Dave and Johnny 6778 styled dress. A while ago when she bought it, she was positive the Copper color wouldn't look right, but now it seemed to make her skin tone look soft and slightly tanned, and her blue eyes looked brighter. However, the weirdest thing was that her glasses actually looked really good with the dress as well. (_"You look really hot and smart with them!"_)

"So how much did _that_ get-up cost you, queenie?" she asks mockingly, referring to Nikki's pretty cocktail dress.

Nikki grumbles and sinks back into the leather seats, averting her eyes. "$240."

Bel, who was quiet up until this morning, curls her lips into a cat-like smirk and exclaims, "Wow! That's dressing down for you, huh?"

"S-shut up!"

The other girls—save for Natalia and Monica—laugh and settled into their usual random conversations.

"But where are we going?" Elizaveta inquires casually, picking at the fluff clinging to her green one-shoulder ruffled top. Taryn just smiles widely and Cassy found it was left to her to explain.

"Alright, so there's this new club my cousin opened about a month ago—" she is cut off by a 'go figure' from Nikki, "—and he said he worked something out where he would be able to get us in there for tonight!"

Bel shifts in place, the fabric of her outfit rubbing against the seat. "No kidding! That's awesome!"

"That's wonderful! But… don't you think we'll be noticed?" Katyusha comments quietly, watching as Cassy bites her lip, considering the fact.

"Sure… but it doesn't matter, because Nikki can beat any of the pests up and we can easily have some of the bouncers or whatever watch over us. I'll just explain to them that my cousin owns the place. They'll recognize me off the bat."

"If you say so," Monica hums while crossing her arms.

_8:03 P.M._

"Way to get the wrong directions." Nikki remarks snidely, sticking her tongue out at Cassy, who has her left arm linked with the tanned girl's as they walk up to the front door of their destination.

"Oh shut up, will you? Yes, hello! William invited us? I'm his cousin, Cassandre Epine. He said we wouldn't need to show you—"

"Yes. Step right on in, ladies," the bouncer cuts in calmly, opening the door like a gentleman. Nikki whistles childishly, and Taryn joins her as the girls stride into the booming building.

"Thank you very much, sir!" Elizaveta, the last one in, remarks kindly as she follows her friends. The man nods acknowledging and softly lets the door shut behind her. The others stop in the entryway, somewhat stunned.

"Can I admit I've never been to a club?" Nikki admits hesitantly, staring into the immense crowd before her. Natalia makes an irritated noise in the back of her throat and, clinging to the wall, wanders off somewhere.

"W-wait, sister!" Katyusha squeaks, but her younger sibling continues on until she disappeared in the sea of people. Bel frowns and grabs the trembling girl's hand and comforts her while the others try to figure out what to do first.

"Well… Come on, Monica! Let's go meet some people!" Taryn commands, dragging the protesting Monica in the opposite direction of Natalia. Elizaveta rolls her shoulders, sighed, and follows them and Cassy suddenly seems distracted by something, or someone, lingering by the glass stairs to the right.

"I'll see you three later, 'kay? Bye!"

Bel stares incredulously after her friend but subsequently shook it off. "Guess it's just us, then…"

"Fuck yeah! Let's go find something to do!" Nikki shouts, completely changed from her initial apprehension as she pushes the other two through the crowd, breaking people up without concern.

_8:28 P.M._

Natalia finds her perfect corner, completed with a bench in front of a round glass table. Unfortunately a couple took it and she winds up sitting at the far end of the bar, where there was only one stool before the bar cornered and went straight down a line before it ended. Truth is, she didn't really want to come, but it was hard to ignore her sister's pleas to join the group for a 'night of fun.' She may have a heart of cold, but she still had the obligation of making her elder sister pleased. Which makes her realize that maybe she shouldn't have left her at the front of the building to begin with—especially not with the others.

"Too late now," she whispers carelessly to herself as she scans her eyes over the dancers. Suddenly she finds that a man with dark brown, or maybe some really odd shade of purple (it was hard to tell in this dimmed light) hair and glasses hiding violet eyes, decked out in a white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and a pair of black slacks was stalking toward her. She looks away, trying to remain indifferent to his presence. She is the tiniest bit shocked when she realizes that he isn't interested in her, either, for he slumped into a seat right rounding the corner she was at and drummed his fingers on the bar, as if waiting for a miracle.

Besides the music blaring in the club, and the people chanting and moaning as they move, it is quiet and another individual has preoccupied the bartender.

"So," the man finally expresses in a tone of voice that was somewhat harsh and heavily enunciated on his 's', "what happened to you?"

Natalia twists her head to face him and she saw that he had a tired smile on his face. She never really talked, or wanted to talk, because she didn't care, but she decided to answer. It was short and simple.

"Lack of will-power."

The man smiles again and looks away, out of courtesy, and Natalia can't help but feel a bit lighter than before.

_8:41 P.M._

"Monica? Monica, where'd you go?" Taryn screams into the mob of dirty-dancers. Some of them turned to look at her, surprised to see that the cheery girl was attending the nightclub, when she had such a huge reputation.

Taryn desperately ignored the minor but annoying, abrupt awareness and begins to hide her face with her hands as she crawled her way through.

Unfortunately, some ignorant soul decided to back up into her and she stood up tall, growling. "Excuse me! I'm right behind you, smarts."

The man winced and turned around, revealing himself to be Francis Bonnefoy, one of the school's 'I want him as boyfriend' guys. Naturally, Taryn has heard of him, but she didn't care because, from what she's heard, he can easily break your heart into a million pieces if he willed it. _'Bastard…'_ Taryn thinks, glaring more. The blonde frowned and makes a noise of disapproval.

"That face doesn't suit you, dear."

"Shut up!" she argues, turning slightly red, but it is definitely from the heat of being ensnared in the horde of people. "Have you seen a girl with long black hair? She's quiet and—"

"Mademoiselle Monica?" Francis answers automatically, smoothly slipping a free hand into his pocket while nursing a drink in his other. Taryn rolls her eyes, still trying to keep down her blossoming blush. Goddamn heat!

"Yes. Monica Nguyen, to you, by the way," she snaps. The blonde man laughs happily and points to the other side of the room, behind the fuming girl before him in her hot red sleeveless cheongsam (brocade with peony patterns, missies.) Taryn turns to where he pointed, then gave him a curt nod and stomped off.

"Damn Francis! Who was that hottie you just pissed off?" Gilbert teases, slinging an arm around his buddy's shoulder.

"You won't believe it, but one of those superstars of the city."

"_What?_ Which one?" Gilbert presses, sounding frantic. His piercing red eyes dart back and forth, as if searching for them. Francis shakes his head.

"I do believe it was our dearest Taryn," he replies, relishing in his friend's envy.

"You let her go?"

"She was looking for the other one, Monica."

"Damn… they must all be here! Well, that's my cue. Thanks, man-whore!"

_8:57 P.M._

Monica successfully escaped Taryn's madness and is now hustling over to the sitting area, where neon colored couches are open from any intruders. She sighed and slid onto one of them, crouching down to hide herself.

"My heel… why did I let her dress me up in this?" she groans softly, rubbing her temples. She hears footsteps and squealed, slipping down onto the ground.

"You okay there, little one?" A husky Russian accent flows to Monica's ears as she struggles to get up. At first she thought it could have been Katyusha, but the voice was much too masculine to be so.

"U-uh…"

"Here, let me help you up."

A large hand extended down and she hesitantly takes it. The man hauls her up and she swiftly looked down at her feet in shame. The tall male who helped her smiled and tucked a loose piece of her hair behind her ear. She looks up, shocked, and finally got a good look at the man. He has silvery hair, much like Natalia, and he has light violet eyes. His nose was slightly large, but it looks rather fitting. He is wearing a white polo and nice dark blue jeans. His arms are big but you can tell he definitely had some muscle. Monica huffs at herself and looks away, trying to not make it obvious that she is a little impressed.

"You are very pretty. Why are you hiding? Is someone bothering you?" he asks politely, lowering himself onto the neon colored sofa. He gestures to a free spot next to him and Monica took it, out of civility.

"I suppose," she says so quietly that the man had to lean in to hear clearly, "Actually, more than one person."

"Are they both men?" the Russian questions threateningly, causing the poor girl to tremor. Well, one of them is a man. That one blonde man, Francis, seemed to be interested in her when she passed by, trying to escape Taryn.

"Who is it? Perhaps I can lend you a hand?" the platinum-haired man offers, but Monica can quickly pull out the dark motive behind the words and she vigorously shakes her head in denial.

"Ah well. I'm Ivan, by the way. You must be one of those girls… Monica, is it?"

"Yes… it's good to meet you, Ivan."

"Believe me, I'm very honored to meet you, Miss Nguyen. You're very quiet, aren't you?"

"I guess. Is that a bad thing?" she challenges in defense of herself. Ivan shakes his head, looking rather thoughtful.

"I am, too, but I will not pass up a chance to talk to such a prestigious woman such as yourself."

Monica was left speechless.

_9:12 P.M._

Elizaveta sighed and stroked her shirt back down, smoothing it out. She had lost the two Asians almost immediately, and was now left alone to sit by herself upstairs on the balcony seats with bottled water, being the goody-two-shoes she was by instinct.

"Hey there! Why do you look upset, dude?"

She looks up to find a tall, sun kissed man with glasses, pretty blue eyes, and soft wheat-colored hair staring down at her with concern. She just gave him a shrug and looked back over the balcony to the dance floor, where she could see so many people squashed up against each other it was like they were merging together.

The man kneels down and folds his arms on the small stand, resting his head on them. Elizaveta gives him an odd glance.

"You know, there's a seat right there."

"Yeah, but I figured you'd yell at me if I sat down," he explains innocently, still glued to the floor. Lizzy can't help but laugh, and the guy stares at her for a second before breaking out into a huge grin.

"Wow! Your laugh is really nice! It reminds me of bells, or something."

"Really? That's funny, I suppose," she giggles, taking a swig of her water. She then noticed that they forgot to introduce their names.

"Oh, I'm Elizaveta Héderváry, by the way. Who are you?"

"I'm Alfred! Alfred F. Jones. And… Elizaveta Héderváry? No kidding."

"What?" she questions warily as Alfred's tone became serious. He slipped off his foggy glasses and attempted to clean them with his shirt.

"Nothing. It's just a little obvious, ya know?"

"It is?"

"Yeah! So, wanna see a magic trick? It'll cheer you up!" Alfred yells over the music, flashing a brilliant smile. Normally, Lizzy would turn her head and put on a disinterested gaze, but this time she laughs again and agrees.

_9:23 P.M._

"Hey there, cutie, what're you doing here?" some random man tried to swoon Cassy until she scoffed and turned around, revealing her well-known face to the idiot. He turned pale and began to shake.

"Oh, I—um…"

"That's what I thought." Cassy smiled fakely and turned back around, only to find that a man with blazing red eyes and snowy white hair gaping at her. She rolled her eyes and began to turn to make her way towards the stairs. After all, she wanted to find that man with the abnormal hair curl and tanned skin. However, this other idiot decided to test his luck with her.

"You're Cassandre, right? I'm Gilbert, but you can call me Gil. What's a high class woman like yourself doing at a place like this?" he asks hurriedly, skidding across the floor to meet her face-to-face. She steps back in surprise, but he only moved forward.

"My cousin _owns_ this place," she sneers, fingering the hem of her dress. Normally by now, she would be flirting her heart out, toying with the guy's feelings, but this was a nightclub. She didn't want to seem like that kind of a woman here. Things could get dicey or sketchy.

But this man seemed to pursue her. "That's fucking sweet. Tell your cousin that I come here almost every night!"

She raises a brow in questioning, her glasses slipping slightly. "Yeah, I'll be sure to tell him. I'm sure he'll be thrilled." Suddenly a song that they both liked came on and, unfortunately for Cassy, it was rather… well, she thoroughly enjoyed it.

The crowd went wild, the dirty moves breaking out everywhere. The lights shone and flashed all around the club and Cassy could feel herself beginning to move to the beat. And oh _shit_ it was the extended version, too.

She looked over the railing of the stairs to see bodies cramming and mashing even closer together. Lust levels skyrocketed and fabric rubbed against each other as the people began to bump and grind against each other, as if ready to explode. The beat pulsated through the ground and Cassy could really feel it, but she was fighting her urge to join those sweaty masses; to dance her way all the way across the floor and find some guy to crush her own body against.

Cassy, flushed, turns back to the man who was practically offering himself in front of her and she turned even redder, screaming at herself in her head.

"W-wanna dance?" Gilbert asks, looking just as needy and anxious. They looked at each other for a second before running off and finding a crowded space. They immediately join everyone, matching their movements easily. Cassandre presses herself flush against Gilbert and grabs his chest to keep balance while he wraps an arm around her waist and nudges his forehead to hers.

His eyes are half-lidded and full of emotions, and she guesses hers were the same. Her heartbeat is matching the beat of the song; untamed and free. She took off her glasses and he hastily stuffed them in his pocket as they danced sensually, never missing a beat. Everything around Cassy seemed to go so much slower, the music was blasting full on in her ears, and everything was blurry.

_('All my girls get down on the floor. Back to back, drop it down real low!')_

"This is so insane…" she whispers, her lovely French accent coming into play, to his face and he holds her tighter. He huffs and smirks, and for a second, it drives _her_ wild.

"Who gives a damn?"

_9:46 P.M._

Nikki was watching the b-boy, howling in laughter as he successfully pulled off another move and the crowd around him clapped in approval of his skills. She shook her head, grinning like an idiot.

_I can do that, too._

She flipped off her heels, _at fucking last_, and squeezed through the crowd to join the man in the middle. Everyone cheered louder than before, out of recognition or amusement that she was in a cocktail dress and offering to dance-off. She could already hear the challenge in the air. They were all challenging her to succeed. Like hell she'd fail.

"Get it babe!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Tear it up!"

She didn't care what happened, because now it was her time to shine. She quickly ripped her dress so she had more room to move, and she didn't mind if anyone saw her panties. In fact, they should take a fucking picture if they dared to. She also shook her head wildly and let her hair fall everywhere.

She quickly got into the swing of things. She first did a flare and three step, and everyone began to cheer. She extended her left leg, swinging it around to her right knee, still bent, and hopped over it for a few times. The crowd yelled, realizing the shift. _("Coffee grind!")_ After a few seconds, she finally took her left leg, still extended and glistening slightly with sweat, and wrapped it around her right leg. Her left knee was around her right ankle, and a bout of cheering occurred again. She fell to her right knee, swept her left leg over the air, rolled onto her hip, and finally fell onto her back with her legs in the air, then pushed her body and rolled back so she was doing a headstand, freezing for a moment. She then pushed herself up with only her right hand touching the ground, and her legs were brought back down to her torso, then she fell onto her right leg and stood up, facing the adoring people.

"Damn girl, you got moves!"

"B-girl!"

She laughed and hopped her way out of the center of the circle, while someone else took her place. A few moments later the song changed and the crowd dispersed. She staggers over to a random guy picking on his drink and slumps against him, laughing like some drunken idiot.

"'Ey girl, you're a superb dancer! Too bad you ripped your dress!" the man compliments cheerily and Nikki looks up at him, attracted to the sultry Spanish accent flowing off his every syllable.

"Ah, fuck it. I can buy 50 more dresses like this with one allowance."

The man whistles, and then finally looks her in the eye and freezes. She grunts and pokes him. He isn't as comfortable to lean on when he was all taut.

"What?"

"So Gil wasn't lying! Are all eight of you here?" the man asks excitedly, shaking his arms. Nikki looks at him and then scoffed, pushing herself off him.

Dammit!

"H-hey wait! Nikki wait! I haven't even introduced myself!"

"I don't give a damn!"

And with that final statement, she stalks off. She didn't need asshole fans stalking her while she is trying to relax and lay-low. Especially not when they were so… _eye-catching_.

_10:00 P.M._

Bel was now left alone, because timid Katyusha went to look for her sister, growing apprehensive.

"Oh, sorry!" she whispered as she passed by a couple that bumped into her. She was awkwardly making her way to nowhere. She just wasn't sure what to do, now. Quite a few times she's spotted her friends, and strangely enough, they were always with a man of some sort. Bel wasn't resentful or irate, but she was quite perplexed.

"I hope they're all right," she comments loudly, attracting attention that she was naturally oblivious to. One boy in particular was quite fascinated with the pretty blonde stumbling blindly through the people. He decided to stride up to her, leaving his already-irritated brother behind.

"Hello! How are you today, miss?" he inquires sweetly, tapping her shoulder. She turned and smiled wearily. The boy's breath hitched, but he said no more until she answered.

"I'm great! Thanks! How are you tonight, sir?"

"Fantastic, now that I'm talking to the prettiest girl ever," he purrs, being straightforward and taking her hands into his while squeezing them. Bel gives him an odd look but laughs and, thinking he was introducing himself, shook his hands.

"Well it's nice to meet you. I'm Bel Pascarella! What's your name?"

"Oh, I already know! My name is Feliciano Vargas. But you can call me Feli if you want. It sounds much cuter, right?"

Bel giggles, wondering what an innocent kid like this was doing in a club. She didn't know that he was wondering the same exact thing.

"I agree! So, wanna hang out with me for a while? I can't find my friends…"

"It'd be my pleasure! Let's go, _bella!_" he winked, making a pun that she didn't quite understand, but it made her happy.

_10:25 P.M._

Katyusha wound up finding some poor soul by himself at the bar in the back, when she had been looking for her sister.

He looked really upset, or maybe angry, and he was gazing at the passersby with disgust, at least until she walked bravely up to him and asked him:

"Why do you look so angry? Is something wrong?"

Lovino Vargas gives the tall girl a good look, turning red whenever his eyes passed over her chest, but he became acutely aware that he was staring at her glistening eyes and soft pink face more than anything else.

"Uh…"

His previous mood vanished completely by her appearance, but left him with no response. She was just too pretty and her voice was as soothing as the soft pitter-patter of rain at night when you can't fall asleep.

"Hello? D-did I say something wrong?" she cries suddenly, fretting. Her soft, babyish cheeks flushed and Lovino turned equally as crimson, finding his voice.

"No. Sorry, I'm just thinking." Okay, apparently he found a completely different voice. He frequently swore every other word, or sarcasm dripped from every letter, but now he was levelheaded and he didn't want to make the girl feel guilty.

"Oh, well do you want to talk about anything? I mean, I know I guess I look weak or useless, but I'd love to help out anyway I can!" she suggests, moving closer to him.

Lovino didn't know what went through his head for the rest of their time together, but he knew that his heart was fluttering in a way that it never did before.

_11:00 P.M._

It took 35 minutes for the girls to regroup again, and now they were on their way to the bar to talk about their night then leave the club to head back home.

"Damn Nikki! What on earth did you do to that poor dress? I would have loved to taken it if you really hated it that much…" Cassy nearly screamed when Nikki stood up and threw her shoes at the bartender.

"I ripped it, duh! I think it looks hotter like this," Nikki purrs, slowly ripping the dress even more. Another one of Cassy's squeals makes her stop and laugh.

"Speak for yourself, Cassy! You look like a wreck…" Taryn teases, eying her friend like a trickster in her seat a few stools down from Cassy. The girl snorts and rubs her arm shyly, for the first time ever.

"W-whoa! I was kidding, Cass. What happened to you?" Taryn cries at seeing this phenomenal sight. Cassandre shakes her head and bites her lip, and Taryn notices some of the glitter from the gloss earlier has disappeared. She also realizes that Cassy's hair is a little mangled and she looked tired.

"Did you go extreme dancing or something?" Elizaveta asks lightly, making a joke. Cassandre chuckles and replies, "I guess you can say that…"

"So what did the rest of you do?" Nikki questions, helping out her frazzled friend for a moment. Elizaveta shrugs and makes an imaginary circle on the bar with her finger.

"I met someone who is… really funny. He tried to show me a magic trick," she smiles at the memory that occurred just a while ago. Monica nods, and surprises everyone with her openness.

"Yes, I saw you two on the balcony."

Elizaveta nods, and then snaps her fingers. "I saw you too! You were with that large man with the white or silver hair!"

Monica scratches her cheek timidly while Taryn drops her drink and gapes like a fish out of water.

"Monica? You were talking to a guy? Without my help or support?" Monica turns red at the blunt statement and the two get into a friendly debate on Monica's abilities to talk to people on her own while Katyusha turns to her sister.

"And where were you all night? Did you have fun?"

Natalia sighs and quietly admits that she was with the violet-eyed man the entire night. "Roderich Edelstein," he called himself. Natalia doesn't bother to tell any more details, afraid that she'll admit that she was indeed conversing lightly with the puzzling man.

As the girls continued to argue or tell about their eventful night, of course leaving out the details about their occurrences, shouts called from the other side of the room. They all turn and, dazed, find that the guys mysteriously reappeared altogether.

"Yo Lizzy! Meet my friends!"

Alfred, Roderich, Lovino, Feliciano, Ivan, Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio. No goddamn way.

"This is some sort of apocalypse or something!" Nikki yells, quickly standing up to leave until Francis made a move to stop her.

"Wait, beautiful, might I introduce myself? Francis Bonnefoy," he kisses her hand and winks, "you may have heard of me? I've most definitively heard of you… especially from Antonio, here," he gestures to his Spanish friend, who grins.

Taryn, blushing like mad, slaps Francis' hand away and pulls back her friend. "Get off, you perv!" she demands.

Francis laughs and apologizes, "I'm sorry, my dear. Are you jealous?" Taryn balls her hand into a fist but is stopped before she could reply. "Might you introduce me to your friends?"

"Hmph… well those two are sisters: Natalia Arlovskaya and _Irina Cherneko,_" Taryn puts some serious emphasis on Katyusha's real name before the older woman blushes and says that she goes by Yekaterina "Katyusha" Braginskaya instead.

"You may call me Katyusha instead," she adds before allowing Taryn to continue. Before she does, however, she gives Francis and his friends the look of 'I don't give a damn what she says, I say you call her Irina.'

"They're both Russian, by the way, if you couldn't tell. That is Elizaveta Héderváry. She's pretty much the mom of the group, but she's super awesome! Next to her is Bel Pascarella, and she's one of the nicest and funniest people you'll ever meet—"

"Thanks Taryn!"

"No problem," she leans in again and hisses, "don't you dare try and flirt with her, bastards… Next is Cassandre Epine. Don't fuck with her unless you want lawsuit troubles."

Cassy threw Taryn a glare, but then realized how true the statement was, and relaxed. Gilbert gave her a look and then quickly glanced away.

"Her best friend is next, the fashion queen extraordinaire Nikki Forte. She'll also kick your ass."

"Damn straight!" Nikki proclaimed, leaning against the bar. Alfred laughed, impressed with her attitude.

"Then there's my best friend ever Monica Nguyen! Isn't she so cute?" Taryn finished off adoringly, snuggling her neck into the curve of Monica's neck. Monica blushed profusely and pushed the girl away, hiding her face into her arm.

The guys nodded, but were highly amused. _As if _they really needed to be introduced to the eight girls who everyone in town already knew about.

"Well I already introduced myself. This is Alfred F. Jones, the self-proclaimed hero. Then again he's abnormally strong, but he's still quite the loser."

"Yo! Francis! Not cool. Let me handle this," he pushed the Frenchman aside and bowed before the girls. "This is Ivan Braginski. Kind of like you, Kat! He's Russian as well. Then there's Gilbert Beilschmidt—"

"'Sup ladies. Ever need help, give ol' Gil a call," he suggested, crossing his arms while winking, and Cassy felt like burying herself in dirt for the rest of her life.

"This is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. He's Spanish, if you didn't know. He's freaking awesome at cooking too!"

"Hola girls!" Antonio beamed, his Spanish accent drawling on.

"This is Roderich Edelstein, and if you ever need help with anything relating to music, seriously give him a call. He's an expert. And he has glasses, so that helps. Well, he's also kind of dark and mystifying too…"

"Alfred, please just continue."

"Oh right! These guys are twins! I think. They're Lovino and Feliciano Vargas! They're Italians."

"I'm Lovino, you idiot."

"I'm Feliciano!"

"Oh… sorry, guys," Alfred replied nervously, sensing Lovino's wrath coming upon him.

"It's nice to meet you all, but I'm afraid we need to get going…"

Feliciano whimpered and opened his mouth to protest, but Katyusha stopped him. "Sorry, but my father's limo is needed somewhere tomorrow and it's almost midnight."

The girls got up and each shook hands with each boy. For a moment after, it was silence and they all stood staring at each other, thinking private thoughts.

That is, until Bel sweetly broke the silence.

"Oh… the we need to pay for the drinks. D-did anyone remember to bring money?" she looked hopefully at her friends but soon realized they spent it all that night. Elizaveta coughed in embarrassment and turned to the bartender, who was summoned over, and was about to explain their dilemma when Antonio stopped her.

"Querida, don't stress. We'll pay for all of your drinks," he smiled, as dazzling as the sun. Monica and Katyusha began to protest, but Ivan stopped them.

"Don't worry! We'd be happy to pay for your drinks. Think of it as a gift from us to you, for allowing us to spend this night with you girls."

"Yeah, dudettes! No sweat!" Alfred encouraged, whipping out his wallet.

"Thanks…" Nikki began, until her phone rung. It was a text from her dad. She ignored the text but saw the time and sighed. 11:59 P.M.

"We should go. Thanks for everything!" Bel complimented, ushering the others to the entrance. The men all nodded or waved goodbye and began to pay for the drinks when they heard one last call:

"Maybe we'll see you all again sometime! Oh, by the way—"

A chorus of laughter.

—The drinks taste a lot better now that they're _free_!"

**authors notes;**

I was thinking I'm probably going to add another part with some other guys like Kiku, Ludwig, Arthur and such. I would need an opinion on that, though…

Worst ending ever. Can't you tell how lazy I was writing this? I could've done better, but oh well. Sorry for the crazy tense switching. I didn't mean to do it and I'm too lazy to fix the mistakes. Don't kill me.

I was also thinking that along with the other men, I should give out drabbles as to what happens after this. I know I used random people like Vietnam with Russia, so I wanted to add maybe some other people with Vietnam in the aftermath or something.


	3. The Messenger

**authors note;** Just a small drabble while I've got the time. Mom is still fixing Word on the other computer, so why not write something quick and simple on this one? Sorry for OOCness. It's just something I wrote in like 3-5 minutes.

:: **behind the bar he's standin' there, so unaware **::

"M-Miss Arlovskaya!" some poor soul called weakly, speed walking after the retreating woman. She strut confidently and somehow broodingly down the hallway to her dorm, where a softly sobbing Kat was probably waiting, studying for her classes.

Of course she heard the voice calling for her, but she didn't feel the need to answer to the man's pleas as she continued on casually.

"Please, wait just a moment," the man asked after a few moments, finally coming within a few feet of the lady. She rolled her eyes and groaned, stopping, but only because she arrived at her door and she was wondering what he had to say, especially since he followed her all throughout the school.

"Ah, Miss Arlovskaya—" he began before he was immediately cut off.

"You can call me Natalya, moron. I won't kill you for it."

He paused and turned a pretty shade of red. "Oh… _N-Natalya_," she raised her chin slightly as if demeaning, and he lowered his head so his short black bangs covered his eyes, "someone was looking for you. They would like for you to come to the Music Room."

"What's your name?" she asked suddenly, as if she completely ignored his words. He looked back up and coughed.

"My name is Kiku Honda."

"Right then, Kiku," she sneered, leaning over to meet him face-to-face, "you must be the messenger boy?"

Kiku gave her the strangest look his normally composed face could manage, then replied, "I suppose?"

"Well, if this person, wants to see me, they better come find me their selves instead of sending someone else to do the job." She breathed into his face, putting the Asian man in a slightly daze. She then paused and flipped her platinum hair back over her shoulders and turned to open her door. Natalya stepped inside for a moment before looking over her shoulder coldly, "Besides, I don't go to places for people. I've got better things to do with my time."

With that, the door closed and left Kiku by himself, waiting for the deep blush on his face to fade before he slowly made his way back down the hallway.

:: **he's lookin' like a deer in the headlights** ::


End file.
